


Like Grub Sauce

by DizzySquare



Category: Homestuck
Genre: non-romantic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzySquare/pseuds/DizzySquare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tumor has exploded. Now what?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Grub Sauce

Looking around, you were pretty sure that everyone was shaking. Even Damara, who was always so fearless. She watched Meenah with a self-satisfied smile on her face. You shiver. It's scary to see that look on her face.

  
You knew that what is about to happen was going to happen anyways. You could have done it yourself, but that would have been too hard. To take the sickle too your own throat? To feel yourself fade away and chase yourself off towards death? No. That would have been too hard. And even though there is some shame in admitting it, you knew you had to. You smile half-heartedly and look around you.

  
Porrim is looking at you. She has this odd expression on her face. It's a mixture of fear and excitement. You're not sure what to make of it, if anything. You suppose it doesn't matter much now. Everything up to this point is going to be erased. Scratched. Until it's unreadable. No one will ever play a game quite like yours ever again. Given, you're not even sure if you would play it again. There was a lot of fighting between players and a lot of bad things that happened. You wished it would have gone in a much different direction. Perhaps in one that could have helped save the planets you were bound to destroy. After all, what's the point of becoming a god if you can't even save anyone?

  
You look behind you at Meulin. You never were very fond of her, but you feel bad for her. She looks very frightened. Meenah's back is to her, she can't even tell what she's saying. Kurloz is gazing at her sympathetically, but not daring to move an inch in her direction. You can't say you blame him. Things between them are complex, and not even Porrim understands them.

  
And then in the back is Damara. You glance at her once more, but there's still that grin on her face. You don't dare stare for very long. She scares you.

  
"Hey," Porrim says. You snap back to look at her. You have a feeling that your face is betraying your fear right now. She reaches out to hold your hand. "It's going to be okay." You don't take it. You know she cares for you, but it's time to be a big boy. It's time that you man up and stop living in fear of offending anyone or making anyone mad. Your whole life you've hidden your anger to yourself in order to protect those you care about. Even her. Especially her.

  
"No," you say simply. "I don't want to." She takes her hand back, looking at the ground. For a moment, you wonder if she wanted to hold your hand. If she was extending her hand because she needed you. Maybe she did. You'll never know.

  
"Hurry up!" Cronus yells from the other side. You glance over at him. He looks worried. Everyone looks worried. Everyone is upset. Let's not cut corners here, you're going to blow yourselves up.

  
"I'm hurrying you brinesucker!" Meenah yells back. She holds the tumor up to her face and thinks for a moment.

  
"Shake it like an eight ball." Aranea whispers, staring at it, seemingly transfixed. Meenah smiles and looks around.

  
"All right, magic eight ball. Water your thoughts?" she says mockingly. She shakes it.

  
Words form on the little screen in blue. Only she can see them. But you imagine what they say.

  
And then it comes.

  
It feels like a burning, like something big hit you and you hurt everywhere. Your eyes burn up, your vision goes black. Everything hisses as it goes, crackling until you have no feeling left anywhere. Your thoughts plunge into an incoherent mess. You can't comprehend anything. Nothing at all, actually. There's nothing to comprehend. Because just as soon as the pain began, it stopped. You feel nothingness. You would wonder if your feet are on the ground but you don't have feet anymore. You don't have hands or a face or anything. Everything you have ever based your idea of perception on is gone.

  
And then it stops. Everything is quiet. Even if just for a moment. Although it wouldn't even matter anyways if there was sound. You don't have ears to hear nor a think pan to process the information.

  
But then a new sensation arises. Not in a physical sense, but more emotional. You think, therefore you are. You know you are dead, but something within you is still there. Still responding. Still perceiving. And whatever that is, it's being ripped right in half. You feel yourself splitting, and it hurts. You want to scream but you have no mouth. You can't think straight because your thoughts don't form correctly. Would I really think this? On this side I might, but on that side I wouldn't. The process is relatively quick, and then it stops. You don't know if it will happen again. You decide to stop perceiving.

  
You decide instead to just exist.

  
Passively.

  
Perhaps then there will be no more pain.

  
Gradually, beyond your control, you begin to feel again. There is something there. You are something. You wiggle slightly. You have limbs. That's...good? You're not sure what to make of this. Are you dead? Are you alive? You're not sure. You couldn't say anymore.

  
Actually, that's another thing to note. Your ability to comprehend is going out the window. Complex thoughts are getting difficult. You try to focus, and the only thing you can come to a clear consensus is that you really want your lusus right now.

  
You open your eyes. Which you didn't know you had. But now you do. You congratulate yourself quickly on the discovery. Your vision is fuzzy, and not easy to see with. You are looking at something. Something large and white. And it is looking back at you.

  
You reach out and touch it with one of your appendages. And just like that, you got your wish.

  
There is your lusus.

  
And you are a grub.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
